Wild Bells to the Wild Sky

by Laurie McBain

  Fast as the child was, Valentine's long strides quickly outdistanced it and with an arm outstretched, Valentine captured the child before it could reach the water.

  Valentine felt as if he'd trapped a wild cat. The top of her head caught him on the point of his chin, slightly bloodying his lip as he bit into it. Cursing mildly beneath his breath, he felt her teeth sinking deep into his hand. He grimaced as her feet, kicking against his thighs, struck a vulnerable spot.

  " I am not going to hurt you, child," he said softly, for he could feel her the trembling against him even as she struggled. " I want to help you. I won't hurt you."

  Suddenly she stilled, but Valentine could still feel her shaking uncontrollably in his arms. He lowered her to the sand, but kept a firm hold on her arm. A wise precaution, for as soon as her feet had touched the ground she had tried to race away.

  Valentine turned her around to face him. Her eyes were dark brown and fringed with thick, sooty lashes. Her black hair was long and tangled and she had a smudge of dirt across one sun-browned cheek. Gold earrings dangled from her ears and a necklace strung with delicate pink shells hung around her neck. She was dressed in a plain, silk shift that was faded to a colorless shade by the sun and sea.

  She jerked back her head when Valentine reached out to touch a dark curl. Her face was filled with fear as she stared at him. For an instant her eyes slid away from him as the rest of his men reached them. Keeping a wary eye on them, she watched as they formed a half-circle around their captain. Valentine could feel her tensing, ready to spring free if he gave her the chance.

  " What is your name? Do you understand me?" he asked.

  " Maybe she'd don't understand English, Cap'n. Could be she's off that Spanish galleon that sunk. She kinda looks Spanish, so dark she is."

  " Looks more like some gypsy's brat to me," one of the men offered, eyeing the dark-eyed girl suspiciously.

  Valentine captured Dulcie's chin, holding it turned up so he could see her face clearly. "A gypsy's brat?" Valentine spoke softly, shaking his head as his fingers caressed her cheek, then one of the silky eyebrows that arched so delicately above her wide eyes. Had anyone looked closely at Valentine Whitelaw's own arched brows, they might have remarked on the similarity, especially the odd way the left eyebrow rose slightly higher than the right one, which gave a slightly quizzical, sardonic cast to the expression on both faces. Valentine did not need to ask who her father was; he already suspected that this wild child was Basil's daughter.

  "Won't you tell me your name?" Valentine asked her again, smiling this time as he tried to get her to respond to him, but she continued to watch him distrustfully. He saw the tears welling up in her eyes before she began to cry, and he suddenly felt like the ogre he must appear to be in her young eyes. He glanced around at the men who had crowded close and did not blame her for being frightened.

  "Ah, sweeting, I'm not going to hurt you," Valentine said, lifting her in his arms. "Did you see anyone else at the hut?" he demanded of the bos'n.

  "No, Cap'n. Not a soul. We was making our way back there when we saw this one and she took to her heels. I left a couple o'men on guard, just in case t'others come sneakin' back."

  "Good. I want you to take your men and go back to the hut and load up everything you can find. Strip it bare. And, gentlemen, I expect everything to be accounted for. Those are my brother's possessions, and they now belong to his family. Everything is to be stored aboard ship. We will camp out here tonight, and, if the children haven't shown themselves, we will salvage what we can from the wreck while we await their pleasure," Valentine told his men.

  "Ye think we be havin' a long wait then, Cap'n?"

  Valentine smile. " These children know this island better than we do. Unless the others wish us to find them, I doubt we can," he said.

  "Ah, Cap'n. We just heard about your brother," one of the men who'd been with the other group said, coughing uncontrollably before continuing, "and we be real sorry. Hear the lady is dead too. What ye think happened to them?" He asked, glancing down at the child. "Ye don't think this little one be Spanish then?"

  Valentine tightened his arm around the child he held against his chest. She was quiet now, her head pressed against his shoulder, her face hidden. "Perhaps half-Spanish, he murmured.

  "Why don't we just call to them, Cap'n? Tell them we be."

  "These children have no reason to trust us. Basil was a cautious man, he would have taught them to be on their guard, especially should any strangers come ashore. It is an impossibility. They disappear like rats. Lily Christian has grown up on this island, as have the other two, and I'm certain she's watching us at this very moment, trying to figure out how to rescue this one."

  "Lily is the captain. I'm the bos'n's mate," Dulcie suddenly spoke. There was such pride in her voice that the Madrigal's bos'n grinned back over his shoulder as he headed back to the hut with his men to do his captain's bidding, his step quickening as he watched Thomas Sandrick disappearing out of sight. He snorted. What did that one think? That only gentleman could count? He had ten fingers, didn't he? He could carry out the captain's orders without any assistance, he vowed, running to catch up to the gentleman hurrying ahead.

  Valentine Whitelaw stared down at the dark head, a smile curving his lips as he heard a muffled voice.

  "She is? Well, that is not surprising since she is a captain's daughter. Did you know that Geoffrey Christian, Lily's father, was my very good friend? I sailed aboard his ship the Arion. I even met Lily when she was about the same age as you. I knew your father, too. Do you know what my name is?"

  There was silence.

  "My name is Valentine Whitelaw. I am your father's brother. Did he never mention my name?" Valentine asked. "Did he never talk about England?"

  The child remained silent and Valentine sighed. She was so young. She would hardly remember Basil and Magdalena, much less anything they might have told her about themselves. If he was to have his questions answered, he would have to find Lily Christian.

  Dulcie stared across Valentine Whitelaw's shoulder. She watched the waves breaking in splashes of white, and beyond that, she saw a ship. Her eyes widened as she stared at the white flag and red cross flying on the mainmast.

  "The red cross of St. George!" she squealed, struggling to free herself. "Lily always said that one day we would see it and then we would be rescued. Tristram said that it didn't exist, just like the wild white horses that would carry us home to England, but it does. It does! Let me go! Let me go! Got to tell Lily! We've been rescued!" she cried, trying to squirm free of the arms that still held her tight.

  "That's right. You have been rescued, but I can't let you go, not just yet," Valentine told her, tightening his grip. "Lily will find out soon enough. Lily is your sister, is she not?"

  Dulcie nodded.

  "And Tristram?"

  "He's my brother."

  "Do you have any other brothers and sisters?" Valentine asked, wondering how many children might be running wild on this island.

  Dulcie shook her head. "Just Lily and Tristram. There's Cappie and Cisco, too. And Choco, but I don't like him," Dulcie confided, a frightened look entering her eyes.

  "Who are they?"

  "Jinni," Mustafa said.

  "Maybe savages, Cap'n."

  Dulcie giggled. "Cappie is a monkey! And Cisco is a parrot. He talks!"

  Valentine laughed. "And Choco?"

  Dulcie shivered. "He's a tigre. He scares me, but Lily likes him. Cisco and Choco came from that ship. Did you know it is a ghost ship? Tristram says 'tis haunted," Dulcie said, her childish confidences causing several of the crew who had been so anxious to explore the wreck to glance uneasily at the rotting hulk on the rocks.

  Valentine smoothed back a dark curl from her cheek. "And what is your name? Will you tell me? I would like to be your friend."

  " 'Tis Dulcie," she murmured shyly.

  "Dulcie. That is a pretty name."

  "And Rosalinda."

 
; "Sweet Rosalinda," Valentine said softly.

  "That's what Lily says my papa used to call me."

  "What happened to him?"

  "He went away. So did Mama."

  "Where did they go?"

  Dulcie pointed toward the cove.

  "Do you know why they went away?" Valentine asked.

  "Lily says it was the fever. We played all the time and there weren't any lessons, Lily says. Then we made the cross. Lily let me help. We go there everyday to say hello. And even though Mama and Papa aren't here anymore, we still set a place for them at the table. Lily says 'tis so we won't ever forget them. We don't go to the other graves very much. Tristram says we don't need to go at all, but Lily says Mama and Papa would want us to. Lily says Papa always wanted us to be civilized."

  "What graves of those, Dulcie?"

  "The other graves. The crosses aren't as pretty."

  "Who are the people buried there?"

  "Castaways, like this. Lily says their ship sank in a storm and they were the only survivors. Papa and Mama tried to save them when we found them on the beach, but they all died."

  "Why didn't you become sick, Dulcie?" Valentine asked his young niece.

  Dulcie shrugged. "We built a big fire, the biggest ever. We burned everything on the beach. Papa told us to. I'm hungry. Can I go now? Lily will be looking for me," she explained, struggling to free herself.

  "I'm sorry, Dulcie, but you are going to have to stay with us for a while, at least until Lily comes. You don't know where she is, do you? Is there a secret place where she takes you and Tristram when she thinks there is danger?"

  A secretive look entered Dulcie's dark brown eyes. "We have lots and lots of secrets," she said. "I'm not going to tell you any of them. I promised not to."

  "Your father would want you to. He trusted me like you trust Lily, Dulcie. Will you call to her for me? If she would come out of the forest I could talk to her and tell her that I knew her father. She can stay hidden while she talks to me. I will not hurt her. You want her to come, don't you, Dulcie? When Lily and Tristram are here, I'll take all three of you aboard my ship and then we will sail away to England. That is what your Papa would want, Dulcie," Valentine said softly, persuasively.

  "Cappie and Cisco, too?" she asked worriedly.

  Valentine raised an eyebrow, then nodded reassuringly. "Now, would you call to your sister? I really would like to talk to Lily," Valentine told her, and, unable to resist, he pressed a quick kiss against her smudged cheek.

  Dulcie's eyes grew wide, and she giggled. “That tickled," she said, then she gasped, putting her small hand over her mouth.

  "What is the matter?" Valentine demanded, concerned by the look of uncertainty that had suddenly entered her eyes.

  "Lily isn't going to be very happy when she sees you," Dulcie declared. "She won't be able to be the captain anymore."

  Valentine Whitelaw grinned. "And why is that?"

  Dulcie touched his bearded face, then quickly withdrew her hand as if stung. " 'Cause you have a beard. Captains are supposed to have beards and ships. Lily isn't a real captain. You will have to take command now, and I don't think Lily will like that. Lily has always been the captain," she said.

  Valentine laughed softly. "Well, I shall have to try very hard then to make her like me," Valentine told Dulcie as he walked up the beach, little realizing how difficult a task he had set for himself.

  "Where is Dulcie?" Lily asked as she and Tristram huddled close together under a low palm, their faces peering out between the long, sweeping fronds.

  "I don't see her anywhere?" Tristram said. "Look! There! Two of the pirates are inside the hut. I saw one of them peeking out, Lily! Do you think they heard us calling Dulcie?" Tristram asked, looking behind them worriedly. "If she was here, she would've heard us. I don't see her anywhere. She wasn't by the spring. She knows to meet there, Lily. Where could she be? You don't think they have her, do you, Lily?"

  "I don't know?" Lily said uncertainly. Basil had never told her what to do if one of them got caught by pirates. He had only taught them how not to get caught.

  "Look, Lily, here come some more pirates," Tristram whispered hoarsely as a group of men approached along the path and disappeared into the hut. Several minutes passed while Lily and Tristram listened to muffled voices and laughter. "Look at them! They're stealing everything, Lily," Tristram squeaked in growing indignation as they watched several of the men leave carrying their chests.

  "That's Mother's chest," Lily said angrily. "Those are my clothes. And those are Dulcie's shells he's got," Lily hissed as she watched the finely dressed gentleman walk quickly by.

  "That's my fishhook and line," Tristram muttered.

  The Madrigal's bos'n was carrying out his captains orders with no lack of haste for there were only a few hours of daylight remaining. It hadn't taken long to clear the hut: The sea chests had been repacked and carried out; the gold plate and silverware counted under his watchful eye before going the way of the chests; a clothes, personal belongings, and food, even the coat of arms over the door, had been gathered up with the bed mats and blankets and dispatched to the beach. Soon, nothing but the bare furnishings remained in the hut.

  His job completed, the bos'n followed his men back to the boat. Once or twice, hearing a rustling in the trees behind, he glanced over this shoulder, but there was nothing to be seen. When he reached the beach, the crew had just about completed loading the boat.

  "We goin' to be stayin' ashore or goin' back aboard?" one of his men wanted to know.

  The bos'n glanced over to where the captain was standing, the little girl still held in his arms. "Reckon the cap'n'll be tellin' us when he wants us to be knowin'," he said. "Finish this up now and be quick about it."

  "Ain't nobody answered him so far, even if they be in there watchin'," one of the crew remarked as he followed the bos'n's gaze to where their captain, now in conversation with Thomas Sandrick, stood near the edge of the forest. "Called to them, but no answer, unless ye be countin' all the birds squawkin'. Reckon we might talk the cap'n into lettin' us catch something fresh to eat? Saw some wild pigs runnin' through the bushes on the far side of the headland and there's all kinds of wild fowl we can catch. Sure would taste good," he said, voicing the rest of the crew's sentiments.

  "Ye think the cap'n and me was born yesterday?" the bos'n demanded with a contemptuous snort. "On the cap'n's orders, I've already sent out a huntin' party. We'll be dinin' on roast pig and pigeon tonight or I'm not the Madrigal's bos'n for long. And since ye've got time on yer hands, mate, ye might as well get busy, or ye just might find yerself eatin' pickled mushrooms and sour biscuit."

  Valentine Whitelaw watched as his men rowed the boat back to the ship, where they would unload it of its cargo, and then return to shore with the necessary supplies for their stay on the island. At first light tomorrow they would begin to salvage what they could from the wreck.

  That night a large bonfire illumined the sands of the bay. The crew of the Madrigal dined like kings on roast pig and pigeon pie flavored with onions and potatoes, and fresh fruit. Plenty of ale from the ship's stores washed it all down. A chorus of loud belches following the evening's meal was satisfaction enough for the cook. A sailor brought out a hornpipe and began a lively tune. Several of the men partnered each other and started to dance a jig around the fire, while others were content to sit and watch, their voices raised in song and laughter that drifted through the balmy, smoke-filled night air.

  The Madrigal's captain sat slightly apart. His mood varied from moment to moment as his thoughts lingered on what had happened on this island where Basil had lived out the last days of his life. Once before, he'd had to accept Basil's death, but it was harder this time. Valentine ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief at how cruel fate was. How many times during the last few years had the Madrigal sailed these very waters and how close he had been to recuing Basil if only he had known, Valentine remembered. If Joshua Randall h
ad returned home to England sooner, how different the future would have been. Valentine glanced down at the sleeping child curled up on a blanket next to him. He touched her smooth brow. She was so innocent. What would happen to her when they returned to England? And the others, what was to become of them? Was the boy also Basil's son? It seemed likely that he was. And Geoffrey's daughter, Lily, she had no family to return to in England. Valentine stared into the darkness, thinking of those back home who would be wondering what he had found on this island.

  He felt the warm trades against his face as the winds rustled through the palms. He could smell the sea and hear the waves lapping gently against the shore. The stars were bright in the black sky above. Sweet water bubbled from a spring and fish and fowl were abundant. Realizing they would spend the rest of their lives on this island, Basil and Magdalena would have accepted their fate and eventually found happiness. As grief for what had been lost passed, would it have been so very hard to find happiness here?

  Valentine pulled the blanket over Dulcie's small shoulders. She had cried when no one had answered her calls. Later, she had sat quietly by the fire and eaten her meal, but her eyes had never strayed from the concealing darkness of the forest, where they both knew Lily and Tristram must be watching from the safety of their hiding place. Valentine stared in distaste at the length of rope he had tied around his wrist before securing the other end to Dulcie's waist. He couldn't let her loose; Dulcie was his only hope of catching the other children.

  And he would not leave this island without them safely aboard the Madrigal, he vowed as his gaze raked the forest and he heard again the jaguar's cry. The first time it had sounded, it had brought an uneasy silence to the camp. The men who had been dancing and laughing had suddenly stilled. Almost breathlessly, they had waited to hear that inhuman scream come again. When it came, it was accompanied by the agonized death cries of the jungle cat's prey.

  Valentine stared down at the peacefully sleeping child. He had not believed her story of a tigre prowling the jungle, thinking it no more than a tale of childish imagination. But Dulcie had not lied. And with good reason, she should be afraid of the jaguar. Valentine thought of the other two out there in the dark with the big cat and he cursed beneath his breath in frustration, knowing he could do nothin until dawn.